


skip to the good part

by ellisaco



Category: One Direction (Band), Union J (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:11:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellisaco/pseuds/ellisaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George is perfectly content with pining silently from the back of class. Really. Highschool AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	skip to the good part

George meets Harry in Biology class. 

Well, okay, he first _sees_ Harry in Biology class. George doesn't suppose that staring creepily at Harry's curls from his – rather conveniently located – seat at the back of the class counts as meeting him. Probably. 

But it's not as if it's George's fault that he can't work up the courage to actually go _talk to him_. He's seen his mother in social situations, so he's blaming his shyness on genetics. It seems a good excuse as any, and it makes George feel better about himself - if only marginally - as he stands on the outside looking in. 

And, yeah, Harry is pretty intimidating, too, with his beautiful eyes and blinding smile and his easy confidence that simply says _I'm happy with who I am_. And that's not even to mention the company that he keeps, him and his best mates always looking like they're at a fucking casting call for a modeling agency as they walk the halls. They scare George a bit, if he's honest. 

George knows he's not exactly a slouch in the looks department, but he always been called _adorable_ or cute rather than fit. He's realistic about his chances with actually the most beautiful boy he's ever laid eyes on, and that's why he's content to admire from not-so-afar. He's honestly resigned himself to it, which is why he cannot be blamed for the rather indelicate shriek he lets out when a hand at his wrist at the end of class keeps him from continuing to the cafeteria to meet Jaymi. A long fingered hand, which upon closer inspection belongs to -

"Harry," George says, and it comes out breathy and completely embarrassing and pretty much nothing like George had imagined his first meeting with Harry to go. (What else is he supposed to do in bio if not daydream different scenarios in which he and Harry fall in love and ride off into the sunset?)

Harry grins, says, "George," in the same tone, but it's light and teasing, not mocking, and George's skin is tingling because Harry still hasn't let go of his wrist. 

"Erm, uh -" George stutters, because he was really not prepared for this in the slightest and he's not great at small talk to begin with. Harry is leaned in close to George, like he's about to tell him a secret, and _oh my God_ his eyes are _really_ green. George blurts out, "I loved _Blue Eyed Monster_."

Harry looks startled at that and George actually wants to die, thinks it would be a welcome relief right now, actually. He's sure that's he red to the roots of his hair. 

" _What?_ " He's laughing, though his expression is utterly confused. 

"Uh, you know, your song you posted on Facebook the other day. Erm, I saw it on my news feed," - because _that'll_ convince Harry that George doesn't Facebook stalk him - "and it was good, great, aces, really."

Harry looks genuinely pleased now, not creeped out and ready to file a restraining order like George might have guessed. (George probably shouldn't mention that he put the song on his iPod, listened to it approximately 50 times, and has consequently already memorised the lyrics. That would probably tip the scales.)

"Thanks, mate!" They're walking, now, and George isn't sure where or _why_ , even, but he's finally talking to Harry Styles and he's just as lovely as George had suspected - so he's not exactly going to object. "Suppose I should have recoginised the name of my own single, yeah? Seeing as I'm trying to actually make a go of this getting signed thing." He laughs, a little self deprecating, and George hopes it's not because he doesn't think he's good enough. That would be ridiculous, really. 

"Your voice is brilliant," he says sincerely, "I can't imagine who wouldn't want to sign you."

Harry grins, his dimples coming out in full force. "Who knew little George Shelley was such a charmer?"

George forgets to breathe for a second, because Harry actually knows his full name. (If only Josh could see the delighted look on his face right now, he'd be cackling about what a romcom cliché George is.) 

Because George has absolutely no idea what to say to that, he asks, "So, erm, where are we going?"

"Oh," says Harry, like he's just remembered, "I was hoping you'd have lunch with me?" 

George must be imagining the small bit of uncertainty that makes its way into Harry's tone, because he's Harry Styles and why should he be nervous about asking George to eat lunch at his table? If anything, George should be cowering at the thought of venturing across the cafeteria to previously undiscovered-by-him territory. He wonders if Zayn's cheekbones are sharp enough to cut; he knows that Louis' words are. 

"Um, um, yeah, sure," George manages to get out, because he's hardly going to say _no_ , even if he's pretty sure that it will only lead to Harry realising that George really doesn't fit in with his friends. At all. 

Harry smiles at him, any traces of uncertainty long gone. And what George wouldn't give to have just a bit of that self confidence.

He's been following Harry, and only realises that they're not headed to the cafeteria when Harry walks out the school doors and towards the car park. George is confused, to say the least, but he figures that Harry just forgot his lunch in his car. 

They get to Harry's car and Harry unlocks the doors and slides inside. George shrugs and follows, because it's kind of cold outside and he didn't grab his jacket from his locker. When Harry turns his keys in the ignition, George's brow furrows. 

"Where are we going?" he asks. 

"For lunch?" Harry says, and he sounds unsure again, like maybe George forgot he'd agreed to it in the space of about two minutes. 

"Oh, oh, but I thought - what about your mates?"

Harry leaves the engine idling as he turns to look at George, a bemused smile on his face. "I think they'll be alright without me for one day."

George nods, even though he's not really sure what Harry's talking about. Harry seems to pick up on his confusion. 

"George," he says, reaching a hand across to rest on George's knee (and _oh my God_ ), "I wanted it to be just the two of us."

And, really, that does nothing to allay George's confusion. In fact, it adds to it. "Why?"

Harry pats his knee, smiles softly. 

"Oh, George, you spend a lot of time watching but not nearly enough _observing_." George sucks in a sharp breath, his cheeks colouring at the implication, and there's a denial on the tip of his tongue, but Harry goes on. "If you had, maybe you would have noticed me staring right back." 

George gapes at Harry, wondering if he could have possibly heard him right, because things like this just don't _happen_ in real life and if they do, they certainly don't happen to George.

"You - you're taking the piss." says George, because that's really the only explanation. Harry can't really be insinuating what he seems to be insinuating. 

The corners of Harry's mouth pull into a frown. "George, come on, I wouldn't do that."

Thinking about if for a moment, George doesn't suppose that he would, actually, but the other option leaves him a little speechless. Harry must misread his silence, because he sighs and says, "I guess I'll just have to prove it to you, then."

The question of how dies in George's throat as Harry leans across the centre console and presses their lips together. George is so surprised for a moment that he forgets how kissing works and simply sits there stock still. It's Harry making a motion as if to pull away that snaps George into action. He sits up onto his knees to get closer, reaches a hand to curl into Harry's hair (this may or may not have been a frequent highlight of his daydreams), and starts kissing him back. 

Harry hums a little pleased noise into George's mouth, kisses him soft but insistent. It's the best kiss of George's life, without question. 

George pulls back reluctantly, cursing his trivial need for oxygen. 

"Wow," he breathes out softly. 

Harry smiles at him lazily, seeming to be of the same mind. "Believe me now?"

George smiles coyly and feeling a little emboldened, says, "I think I might need a little more convincing."

Harry looks surprised for all of a second. 

"Oh, Cheeky George, I like it. That can definitely be arranged." he says and leans in closer, closer, closer...

(They don't end up actually going out for lunch, and, later, when Jaymi asks George where he disappeared to, George can hardly stop his giddy giggling long enough to give him a straight answer.)


End file.
